


Flights of Angels

by DebraHicks



Category: Battlestar Galactica (1978)
Genre: M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebraHicks/pseuds/DebraHicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aliens who helped destroy Count Iblis show two colonial warriors what is really important in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flights of Angels

He slipped quietly into the warm bed, half afraid of waking his lover and half hopeful that he would. There was a quick, deep breath from the slender body under the blanket with him, followed by a soft sigh.

"You're late tonight," Starbuck observed huskily.

Apollo leaned in, kissed him lightly across the lips. "Boxey," he explained with exasperated affection, "wanted the long version of how you smuggled a pyromonian crawler into the High Council's chambers at the age of seven."

Starbuck chuckled, sliding closer, running a warm hand down Apollo's flank. A shiver went up his back and he stretched, rolled to slip his leg between Starbuck's two.

"You'll be running out of clean stories to tell him about me soon," the blonde observed.

To prove his point he caressed further down, kneading Apollo's ass. Apollo chuckled, sliding against the hard muscled body, relaxing into the familiar feel of his long time friend and new lover. Starbuck licked a trial along his collarbone.

Starbuck stopped his enticing moves to whisper, "Are you staying the night?"

It was the question that Apollo always hated. He shifted over enough to squeeze his hand between their tight pressed bodies, found Starbuck's half-risen shaft, stroked teasingly along it, barely touching. Starbuck arched, pushing into Apollo's hand. Apollo smiled, easing his answer with the touch.

"No," he said regretfully. "I have to be back by 0200. Boomer has dawn patrol. "

"Good old Boomer," Starbuck quipped.

If the answer disappointed Starbuck, he didn't show it. The fiery series of nips and kisses continued without pause.

But Apollo had been disappointed by the answer. He sighed, wrapping one arm around the narrow waist, tangling the other in the fine gold hair, holding on. Starbuck was plait and silent against him, sensing his quiet mood, giving him time.

He hated the lies and deceptions. But bonding between males had been forbidden on four of the home worlds, barely tolerated on another seven, and legal only on Gemini. Despite the home worlds being destroyed a long four yahren before, the laws and mores had not died with them. The need for pilots was too desperate to let them be court- martialed if discovered but a scandal in the ranks would destroy moral. So they lived with the silence and the lies. Only Boomer, the fateful third of their triad, the person they confided in and took comfort from, shared their secret.

"Okay," Starbuck suddenly announced from somewhere near Apollo's shoulder. "That's enough introspection." He grabbed Apollo's waist, and spun them around, putting himself on top of his Captain. "No thinking on my time," he said cheerfully.

His hand slipped down, took both their cocks, pressing them together. Apollo felt familiar sparkles start in his blood.

Starbuck laughed, pleased with the response. "We have better things to do."

Apollo's worry melted, as it always did under Starbuck's healing, seductive touch. When Starbuck leaned forward, Apollo's lips parted, inviting entrance. Starbuck's tongue filled his mouth, the taste erotic and exciting. Twin moans filled the small cabin; bodies began to move in easy rhythm, hands kindling the sparks into flame.

Apollo edged back, giving himself space. "Starbuck, you're amazing."

The single light above the narrow bunk reflected in the sparkling blue eyes that met his. "I know."

"I love you," Apollo said with all the feelings those simple words could carry.

There was no doubt to the love filled his companions expression. "Share with me tonight, Apollo. I want you."

Tenderness vanished into absolute desire; the request sent new flames along Apollo's nerves. Before he could gather his exited thoughts, Starbuck slipped his hand under the pillow and put a sealed container into Apollo's hand. The blonde fell forward, easing to lay plastered against Apollo's side, kissing him across the chest, tonguing over a taut nipple.

Apollo gasped. Starbuck laughed again, enjoying the response. Uncapping the container slowly, Apollo stared into the night darkened blue eyes. They slipped shut, Starbuck's head going back in pleasure as Apollo slid an oiled hand slowly up and down his thick cock.

"Yeah..." Starbuck hissed.

He pulled away and rolled to his side, raising one leg to present himself to his lover.

"Very subtle, Starbuck," Apollo breathed as he traced his hand down the tight cleft, highlighting the smooth gold skin with the shiny oil.

"I'm beyond subtle when I'm with you," Starbuck explained.

To prove his point, Starbuck wiggled back, urging Apollo on. He didn't need much urging. Slowly, he pushed one finger into the hot channel. Starbuck moan. Apollo echoed it, savoring the feel of slick interior muscle. He easily added a second finger.

"Frac, Apollo," Starbuck groaned, shifting to his knees. "I'm not fragile. Will you get on with it?"

It was Apollo's turn to feel amusement at his ability to excite his smaller partner. He twisted the two fingers, teasing, stretching. His other hand stroked his own cock, oiling it well. With a light kiss to each pale buttock he came to his knees, wrapping a strong arm around Starbuck's waist to steady him.

He rubbed his cock down the narrow cleft, started to enter, and hesitated for just a second. They had been lovers for six hectons; this was only their third joining.

"Starbuck, are you...."

The blonde head whipped around, giving him a glare that clearly said his lover had doubts about his sanity. The single look was enough to make him feel foolish. He pushed partially in, was rewarded with a soul deep moan. They were still for a moment as Starbuck adjusted to the bulk. Barely controlling the hot desire throb through him, Apollo marveled at the love he had found, love so willingly given. Pushing back, Starbuck groaned, ready, demanding more. Apollo felt heat rip along every muscle as he watched his dark cock slid into the tight body, easing in until his balls rested against the tight ass.

"Yeah..." Starbuck hissed. "Do it."

The slide back out was exquisite torture, making his breath come faster. Slow reentry, and back out. His hand found his lover's full cock, began to match the strokes with his erotic invasion. The speed picked up, though Apollo was not sure which one of them began moving faster. The smooth channel pulled at him as Starbuck pushed back, pleading wordlessly for more. Apollo gave himself to the movement.

He felt his climax coming, opened himself for it, tightened his hand as he plunged, thrusting into the willing body Starbuck threw his head back, crying out, cock spilling fluid over Apollo's large hand. Once, twice more, Apollo pumped into the spasming muscles. He was there, light flashed around him like stars in their never ending night, cold as space, hot as double suns. He bit back his cry, falling forward to rest on his hands and knees over Starbuck's back. They were held by the dark for a long moment, then Starbuck stretched, tightening deliberately around Apollo's shaft.

Straightening, Apollo eased out of his lover's body, turned Starbuck to him and kissed him gently.

"I love you."

Starbuck laughed, rubbing at the semen that decorated his stomach. "I noticed."

They lay back down, Starbuck yawning, resting his head against Apollo's shoulder. "When's my next cabin rotation?"

"Is that all you think about?" Apollo demanded.

Starbuck pushed up on one elbow. "No," he defended. With a shrug, added, "Well, not all."

"Name something else," Apollo insisted as he ran a hand down Starbuck's sweaty chest.

He expected a flippant answer, instead, Starbuck said seriously, "I think Boxey and I are two of the luckiest people around. We both have you."

Staring up into the intense blue eyes, Apollo fought away the catch in his throat, kissed each of Starbuck's cheeks. The blonde lay back down, ready to relax and enjoy the time they had together.

Apollo tried to think of something to say that would make his leaving easier; though he knew it was his own conscious that he was trying to ease. Starbuck loved as it came, and damn tomorrow. Yet, it had been Starbuck who was reluctant to hide their love; Starbuck who wanted to share his joy with everyone. Apollo's thoughts drifted as the head resting on his shoulder grew gradually heavier.

"Sexy man," Starbuck mumbled sleepily. "Give my love to Boxey."

Apollo jerked awake, kissed the gold hair near his cheek, glad that his friend was dozing. He wished him good dreams, a wish not often fulfilled. A sad smiled touched his face. It had been nightmares that had brought them together, half remember scenes from something that may or may not have happened, scenes from a duel with a devil and ships of light piloted by angels.

What Apollo had never told Starbuck was that unlike his lover and Sheba, he remembered the white ship. More importantly, he remembered the love offered for him; he remembered Starbuck's offer to trade his life for his; he remembered tears sparkling in azure blue.

Later, when he had found Starbuck slumped over a drink long after his shift had ended, it had not been hard to see that some of that dream had become a nightmare for the slender blonde. For the first time in their years together, he had watched Starbuck cry, as he confessed to nightmares of Apollo's death. The present tears had recalled the lovely glow aboard the white ship and suddenly Apollo realized how much Starbuck cared for him and he for Starbuck. From that moment on he wanted to share everything with his old friend, wanted forbidden delights and the promise that they would be together.

Starbuck fitfully mumbled something.

"Shush," Apollo urged, stroking his temple.

A few minutes later he eased out from under the supple body and returned to his own cabin, taking the warmth and love with him.

The impact slammed him against the canopy, rolling the Viper. For one heart stopping secton he thought the shot had penetrated the hull but by some god's blessing the seals held. The telltales across his board started blinking red.

"....ck! Apollo to Starbuck! Report!"

Starbuck took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. He absently noted the shaking of his hand as he reach for the communications control. "I'm hit."

A ship flashed up on his right. Across the narrow void Starbuck could see Apollo's worried features. Another ship came up on his left, and he saw the same worry reflected in the dark expression of his wingman, Boomer. He acknowledged them with a feeble wave then leaned forward to start his damage control.

"Report, Starbuck." Apollo's tone was reassuringly normal.

He tapped several buttons on the damaged panel. With each reading his heart sank a little lower. He didn't look at either of his escorts, taking a minute to think of something flippant to say. For once in his life nothing came.

"It ain't good," he said finally. After a second he started a fatal list of damages. "Shot took out the starboard fuel tank, all the retros along that side and my thrusters are locked on full."

"Frac," Boomer said softly.

"And then some," Starbuck agreed. "I can do a great right turn but I won't make it back to the Fleet before my fuel gives out."

There was no need to elaborate, his life support went within a hecton of his fuel.

There was silence, then Apollo asked levelly, "Starbuck, can you jettison the last of your fuel if necessary?"

Confused but willing to try anything, he said, "Yeah, but I don't..."

Apollo's voice was strong and confident, boosting Starbuck's spirit. "Okay, Lieutenant, here's what we do. Boomer you get back to the Fleet, get the fastest shuttle you can and follow our ion trails."

"Apollo, I can't get over to a shuttle..."

"Shut up, Starbuck. There's a class 4 planet at heading 14 Alpha 720. When you're within gravity range jettison your remaining fuel. You'll be pulled in..."

"Wonderful," Starbuck muttered.

"Starbuck!" Apollo barked, anger edged with fear made his words shaky. "The planet has an atmosphere and you'll have some control at landing. Would you prefer the alternative?"

"Sorry," Starbuck said quietly.

"I'm outa here." Boomer's rich voice carried over to them. "See you in a bit, Starbuck."

"Count on it," Starbuck called after him.

For a long time after Boomer's lights disappeared the only sound that broke the still of space around Starbuck was the internal hum of electronics, punctuated by the crackle of a circuit going out. He could feel the dark blue eyes watching him, begging him for some sign that they would survive this. He couldn't find the courage to lie to Apollo.

"Starbuck," Apollo warned, "be ready to make a .003 course change to heading 09 Beta 456."

The normally responsive stick fought him for the minute change.

"Easy," Apollo called. "That's it. You're fine."

Starbuck sighed and sagged back into the padded seat. He was tired, his head pounding with each beat of his heart. The darkness that he had always loved closed in around him, the stars that usually danced faded in his growing fear. He glanced around, ignoring the dizziness it brought him.

"Apollo?"

"I'm here." The beloved voice reassured him.

Starbuck smiled slightly, the gloom retreating a little. He let his eyes drift shut, remembering the warmth of their shared bed, the pulse pounding need when they were joined.

"Starbuck?" The voice was very far away. "Starbuck!"

With an effort Starbuck shook off his lethargy. "Yeah?"

"Don't fall asleep!" Fear raised Apollo's voice. "You may have a concussion."

Starbuck laughed. "Well, if I don't now, I will have after I land. If I land."

"You'll land!" Apollo snapped. With forced lightness, he added, "You always land."

Starbuck shook his head, regretting the move. He couldn't bring himself to tell Apollo how much his vision was blurring, how hard it was to stay awake. Frightening possibilities flickering through his darkness. There was something he had to ask, and he knew what it would do to his friend.

"Apollo, will you do me a favor?"

Suspicion laced Apollo's voice. "What is it?"

"If I miss the planet, or go into orbit or ..."

"You won't!"

Starbuck didn't argue. "I don't want to die that way. Not slowly."

"Starbuck, I won't leave you!"

Starbuck heard the tears in Apollo's voice, felt them flood his own eyes. "Damnit, don't make this harder than it is!" He blinked the mist out of his eyes. "I'm not asking you to leave me. Apollo, if something goes wrong, I want you to shoot me down."

There was silence. "Promise me," he urged.

Very softly, in a broken voice, Apollo said, "I promise."

"Okay. That's okay," Starbuck agreed easily. "What kind of time we looking at here?"

"ETA, ten sectons." Apollo's voice turned professional. "Course change in ten, come to 30 Alpha 234."

They made the turn so close that their foils almost touched; Apollo's face as determined as Starbuck's, turning the ship by sheer force of will. Ahead of them one star sharpened, brightened.

"Can your computer handle the jettison time?" Apollo questioned.

Starbuck forced his hand to move, punch the right buttons. "Affirmative." The planet formed, took shape, gained color. "On the count -three, two, one." For a moment the small Viper was surrounded by the aurora of dispersing fuel.

It was a few sectons before the ship showed any sign of movement other than that left from the thrust of the engines. Very slowly it started a left bank toward the planet.

The planet was pretty, a small red and gold oasis in the middle of eternal night. Nearby, a yellow-white star cast it's light on the fragile looking world. Starbuck felt the first lurch as his ship touched atmosphere. His thoughts and his head lurched with it.

It was too soon. He had only just found his lifemate. There was so much to say, to do, to share. Too late.

"Apollo, I..."

"Watch your nose," Apollo warned.

For an eternity Starbuck fought his way through the atmosphere. There could be no mistake here, one slip and he would finish the journey in flames. The clouds gave way, the heat faded and the red ground was rushing to meet him. Apollo punched his throttle up, raced in front of his crippled lieutenant.

"How long can you stay up?"

Starbuck pulled back on the stick, the little fighter fought him, but stayed up and level. "Not long."

Mountains, huge towering peaks, zipped by beneath him. Starbuck flinched. Trying to land here would be fatal. He nudged the nose up a little more, trying to coax as much glade out of her as he could.

"Keep on this heading," Apollo told him. "I'm going to go ahead and find you a place to land."

The ship flared away. "Make it fast, buddy," Starbuck said. "I'm losing altitude and the mountains are gaining it."

Apollo's answer was immediate, his voice filled with relief. "Your luck's still good, Starbuck. On this heading, five microns ahead there's a level plain."

"Just gotta get there," Starbuck mumbled. He was low enough now that the ship bucked in the turbulence, rattling his aching head.

The mountains reached for him. Just when he thought the snowy peaks would be successful, they disappeared, leaving him racing high above a flat open plain. For the first time he allowed himself the hope that he'd get down.

"I can't stay with you," Apollo said reluctantly. Any slower and his own engines would stall out. They were still far above the ground. Starbuck could make out small lakes dotting the open space.

"I know."

"I'll circle until you land then be right down," Apollo said firmly.

"I know."

Starbuck looked across into the cockpit of his guardian angel. Even though he knew it was his imagination he thought he could see the blue of his friend's eyes, hope and love shining in the lapis. He tried to think of something else to say but there was only one thing that mattered.

"I love you, Apollo."

"I love you," Apollo whispered to him over empty space. Then he said confidently, "Now get down there and land that Viper like I taught you!"

"Yes, sir!"

The ground rushed up to meet him. The famous Starbuck luck held for the first two microns, failed in the last few. He was still going faster than he wanted to think about when the left wing dipped. There was no time and nothing to do about it. The foil hit, dug a grove into the hard ground. The alien world spun around him as the ship flipped, flipped again, hit cockpit first into the planet and disintegrated, scattering pieces across the alien countryside.

There was no pain. Starbuck's last thought before the darkness took him was that he wished someone else could find him instead of Apollo. His love had already lost so much.

Shrapnel pinged against his canopy as Apollo watched Starbuck's Viper break up. He wanted to curse but the words wouldn't come pass the catch in his throat. He circled the small fighter, braked down and brought her into a bumpy landing near where most of the ship had come to rest. He popped the canopy, scrambling out so fast that he fell into the rocks.

The cockpit, as designed, had broken free of the possibly explosive tanks, and lay almost upside down, dug partially into the red soil. Apollo took a deep breath, kicked a severed control cable aside, and hit the emergency release. The clear cover popped open, tried to slid back only to be stopped by the soil it was buried in. With a snarl of frustration Apollo grabbed the edge and jerked it free.

Blood coated the slender figure that fell into his arms, the slide stopped by the press of the crushed console on his legs. Starbuck groaned softly in his darkness. Apollo lowered the blonde gently, resting Starbuck between the seat and his own thighs. With both hands he bent what was left of the console away. Starbuck whimpered as the freedom brought new pain. The sound cut into Apollo, but he pushed it away, using all his training to stay calm.

He pulled Starbuck's long legs carefully away from the sharp metal.

"By the Lords," he whispered.

The left leg was soaked in blood, bone jutting through the clothe. Gently, Apollo lifted under Starbuck's arms, easing him out of the destroyed fighter. The limp head rolled sideways, the dim helmet banging his knee.

"No..." Apollo couldn't control his choked cry.

The helmet was crushed along one side, blood flowing freely from under the ruined metal. He lay Starbuck down; there was no sound from the injured body. Pausing long enough to strip off his flight jacket, Apollo slipped off the helmet, lay Starbuck's head on the thick pad. Blood had spider-webbed down the pale face. He touched his shaking fingers to the white throat. A pulse beat under his fingers, but he was not reassured, it was fast and thin.

Apollo very carefully turned Starbuck's head, trying to find the wound among the blood but afraid to touch. He knew the slightest pressure on the broken bones could kill his lover. Starbuck mumbled again, fighting his way toward the light. Apollo started to check his eyes, but Starbuck began to struggle, raising a hand toward his head.

"No!" Apollo grabbed his wrists, pressed him down with his weight. "No, Starbuck, no! You've been hurt."

He was not sure the words were heard, but gradually Starbuck stopped moving, groaned. Apollo leaned close, shielding him from the bright glare of the sun. The blue eyes opened, stared up into Apollo's. There was no recognition in the gaze, no light.

"Starbuck?"

Apollo wanted to scream his frustration, his helplessness; more than that, he wanted to hold the slender body to him, comfort Starbuck, call him away from the growing darkness. He could do neither, knowing that to move him would only make it worse.

"Oh, love." He thought of trying for the medical kit in his Viper but there was nothing in it that would help. They could only wait.

Starbuck blinked slowly, twice more. "Apollo?"

"I'm here, buddy." He tried not to let his fear reach his voice.

A weak hand came off the baked ground. "Where?"

The single, whispered question multiplied Apollo's terror, sent tremors into his hands. He took the offered hand, held it tight. Leaning back slightly, he let the sun hit the beautiful blue eyes. Starbuck flinched, blinking - but only one of the pupils shrank. Apollo took a short, sharp breath.

"Where else would I be but next to you." He let his hand trail down the soft fair cheek.

The reality hit Starbuck, panic touched the tight features. "Apollo! I can't see you!"

He tried to raise, Apollo held him down. "No! Don't move."

Starbuck sank back to the ground, whimpering.

"Easy," Apollo soothed. He debated his words for just a secton. There would be no more lies between them. "I think you may have a skull fracture. Try to lie very still."

"Rather have a kiss," Starbuck whispered with a strangely frozen, crooked smile, his voice slurred.

Apollo forced himself to smile. "You're hopeless."

He leaned forward, brushed his lips lightly over the white ones of his lover, felt Starbuck's breath touch his cheek. "I love you, Starbuck."

The hand holding his tightened until it was painful. Before he could say anything else, do anything else, Starbuck went into convulsions. Apollo cried out in alarm, once again throwing himself across the strong body, trying to hold Starbuck's head still. The attack went on forever, leaving them covered in sweat, sand and blood.

Apollo leaned back to stare down with growing fear. Starbuck's eyes were unfocused, staring pass Apollo into a future he would not see. Apollo brought the slender hand to his cheek, rubbing against it.

"Starbuck?" he whispered.

"..love you." Starbuck breathed from the bottom of his soul.

Apollo had seen death in many forms, had cried in grief and screamed in outrage at the loss of family and friends. Now, there was only emptiness, a cold void that threatened to smother his soul. Gently, he lifted Starbuck into his arms, holding him close.

"Not him, please, dear Lords of Kobol, not him," he pleaded into the gold hair.

Something white flashed above him in the bright light. He didn't notice.

There were no tears, the truth too new, the pain too deep. "What will I do without you?"

More flashes of white. And sudden noise filled his head, building quickly to pain. He cried out, wrapping himself tighter around Starbuck's body. He glanced up and remembered the white ships. Darkness took him.

 "...whatever you want from me, you can have."

Apollo sat up suddenly. "Starbuck?"

Then he realized, Starbuck's voice but not here, not now. From the first time he'd awaken in the ship of lights, surrounded by the mysterious white aliens. Memories hit him, recent and painful. Starbuck was dead; he had held him as he died.

Grief washed through him, but the gentle warmth of the place held it away. Three of the aliens stood around him, quiet sentinels as he adapted to their environment. Swinging his legs off the dais, he glanced around. Starbuck lay nearby on a similar pedestal.

He took a step forward, and was stopped by a glowing softness. He was not frightened of the place or the beings. They had saved the fleet from Count Iblis, brought him back from the dead. The thought stuck him with the intensity of the light around him - they could do the same for Starbuck!

Alien thoughts touched him, filled his mind with explanation and apology.

 "Your death at Count Iblis' hand was not meant to be. But Starbuck died as a casualty of the war you have fought for so many eons."

"Then why did you interfere?" he demanded.

The glow before him disappeared, allowing him to staggered forward to kneel next to Starbuck. Starbuck was an angel in white; there was no blood, no bones through ripped clothe, no sign of the fatal head wound. The handsome face was peaceful and content. Apollo took a cold hand.

"Starbuck," he whispered, half hopeful of an answer. There was none.

 "We brought you here because sometimes we are curious about our protégé’s progress."

 "You love him.  A new voice joined his mind.  "Yet, you deny him to your people,"  it accused.

Apollo had no defense against the charge. The reasons that had seemed so sensible long ago aboard the Galactica, now seemed tragically foolish. Worse than that, it seemed to deny everything this wondrous beings held important. He had let fear of what other people thought and his own mistaken pride in a false image, keep him from showing his people the joy that love could bring.

"I was stupid. Human's are stupid," Apollo said harshly. "You're wasting your time with us."

 "Starbuck offered his life for you. Will you do the same?"

The sudden question took him by surprise. But there was no pause, no hesitation.

"Yes," he said quickly.

But just behind his agreement came the picture of a small boy blonde mourning a dead mother, a small boy who had lost one father already in his short life. A son that he loved, a son that needed him. Tears flooded his eyes, the grief complete now.

"No," he corrected, sorrow breaking his voice. "I can't."

He raised the limp hand to his cheek, held it there. "Forgive me, Starbuck," he pleaded. "I love you, so very much. But I can't do that to Boxey. I can't."

 "You think we are wasting our time with humans, Apollo?"

He stared at the still, peaceful features of his dead lover. And realized that Starbuck would have understood his decision, would have said there was nothing to forgive. Starbuck had understood him; his fears of their love, his fear for Boxey being alone, his stupid pride, all of it.

"Starbuck understood," Apollo admitted. "Maybe we all can."

 "You have."

"Too late," he whispered.

The voices retreated, leaving him alone with his sorrow. He sat down on the dais, pulled the limp body into his arms and gave into the soul-deep pain, tears becoming sobs. He kissed across the tanned cheeks.

"Oh, love."

Something brushed his cheek. There was the slightest pause, then something moved under his arms. His tears cut off with a start. He pulled back, staring down at the fair face. Starbuck was breathing.

Before his mind could register the wondrous reality, the lights around him vanished and he fell into a warm, loving darkness. A single voice drifted through the peace.

 "Not too late, Apollo."

The body in his hard hold shifted, and he opened his eyes to met Starbuck's gaze. An incredible wave of joy hit him across the chest. He tightened his hold.

"Thank the Lords," he muttered.

"Apollo?" Starbuck whispered.

Apollo pulled back, frightened by the weak voice. Without knowing why, he ran his hand through the golden hair, afraid of what he would find, finding nothing but the fine silk. He blinked, looking around, then down in to the steady, sapphire blue. Starbuck was regarding him with equal puzzlement.

"Are you alright?" Starbuck questioned.

"Am I..." Apollo choked back a sob that he couldn't explain. He looked over at the crushed cockpit. "You nearly.. you could have..."

"I'm fine," Starbuck assured him, stroking his cheek. There was a tremor in his voice that gave proof to his doubt about the answer.

Above them a sonic boom signaled the approach of the shuttle. Neither noticed. They continued to stare at each other as if unable to believe they were both alive and whole. Apollo leaned down, kissed Starbuck lightly, letting the intimacy push away the fear that he couldn't explain.

"I love you," Apollo whispered.

A rush of air attracted his attention away from the happy, relieved expression on Starbuck's face. The shuttle settled slowly to the ground just to the side of Apollo's Viper.

"Can you stand?" Apollo asked.

Starbuck shifted slowly, testing each muscle. "Yeah," he said in surprise.

Keeping his arms tight around Starbuck's waist Apollo hoisted him to his feet, holding him steady as he gained his balance.

"Apollo!" Boomer called from behind them.

Starbuck groaned and touched a hand to his head, a move that sent a shiver up Apollo's back. At his concerned look, Starbuck tapped his cheek, then, realizing that Cassoeopia and Sheba were following close behind Boomer, he dropped his hand with a reluctant smile. The fleeting sight of Starbuck's bloody form filled Apollo's mind, and he knew somehow that he had almost lost this love.

As the other three closed, Apollo wrapped his arms around Starbuck and pulled him into a hard, deep kiss. There was a moment's withdrawal, Starbuck pulled back, looking up at him. Apollo know what he was asking. He pulled him back in, putting his answer in a form older than words. Starbuck chuckled as their mouths touched again. They melted into warmth.

Over Starbuck's head, Apollo saw a slow smile light Cassi's face as she realized what she was seeing. Boomer's response was to cross his arms, smile and shake his head over the duo's famous luck. Only Sheba looked shocked and outraged.

Apollo didn't care. It was time the people of the Fleet learned that love was what would keep them going. And love was too precious to ever hide. He closed his eyes and gave his soul to Starbuck.

 

 


End file.
